


The Honey in the Lion

by Victory_Fairchild



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Found Family, Slice of Life, Slow Burn, Slow Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-23
Updated: 2020-08-05
Packaged: 2021-03-04 18:48:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 13,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25471153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Victory_Fairchild/pseuds/Victory_Fairchild
Summary: To celebrate the upcoming Loki Series of 2021, here's the start to a longer work that will be a Loki x Reader romance with elements of fluff, angst and a bit of thrilling horror. (Or so I hope to make it. :P)Comments and feedback are as always hugely appreciated. I hope you enjoy! <3
Relationships: Bruce Banner/Natasha Romanov, Loki (Marvel)/Reader
Comments: 11
Kudos: 30





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> To celebrate the upcoming Loki Series of 2021, here's the start to a longer work that will be a Loki x Reader romance with elements of fluff, angst and a bit of thrilling horror. (Or so I hope to make it. :P)  
> Comments and feedback are as always hugely appreciated. I hope you enjoy! <3

_As of today, the Avengers Tower welcomes a controversial new housemate: Loki Odinson, the man who led an army to destroy New York and take over the world, has been confirmed as the newest member of the Avengers team. After reportedly handing over information critical to preventing future attacks like the New York tragedy and, I quote Tony Stark, so much worse that we couldn’t imagine anything as rancid if we stuck our heads up a bull’s anus, Odinson has been granted full forgiveness for his past crimes. While hardly anybody is making this decision out to be completely risk-free, Loki’s brother Thor Odinson has avidly defended the mass murderer, quoting his torture and mind-washing as the reason he ever committed these acts to begin with._

Breakfast in the tower is unlike anywhere else. After a quick, cold shower that fails to wake me up completely, I trudge into the common room, past Natasha and Bruce who pretend to be looking over mission plans as an excuse to be standing so close their hair is touching, and open the fridge.

I stare into it without actually seeing anything. It takes me a moment of blinking and rubbing my face to register what I am looking at. Seven am is just too early to be awake.

If I stay in bed any longer, though, Thor will break down the door to my room and start an eardrum-shatteringly loud monologue about the magic of friendship and togetherness, and honestly, that’s worse. I’m reasonably certain he does it to get out of work, but I don’t doubt he really does believe in the power of friendship.

And punching things. He definitely believes in the power of punching things. He does it a _lot_.

Speaking of Thor, he is currently sitting on the sofa, fast asleep. His mouth hangs wide open. A robot shuffles about at his feet, cleaning shards and spilled coffee from where he must have dropped his mug. It’s a wonder that didn’t wake him, but then again, I think his own booming voice might have deafened Thor a little bit.

What’s also not waking him is Loki, who is quietly giggling to himself, standing behind him balancing spoons on top of his head. He’s got an impressive tower built so far.

I laugh a little and shake my head. Loki keeps to himself a lot, but an opportunity for a good prank will lure him out any day.

Seeing the spilled drink reminds me of how desperately I crave my own morning coffee. Grabbing a yoghurt from the fridge, I grab my cup and walk over to the coffee machine, pressing the magic button and resting my eyes for a moment while the soft hum of the machine lets me know me my coffee is brewing.

„Hey, why don’t you make yourself useful and help us map out exit strategies for these locations?“ Natasha pipes up.

Surprise flashes on Loki’s face, but shockingly, he complies without a snide remark.

Out of all the avengers, it seems he respects Natasha the most. I don’t know why that is, but I have an inkling she might’ve pulled one over on him in the past, before I joined the team. Rather than brute strength and flashiness, Loki respects intelligence and wit, and Natasha has both in spades.

Jealousy nips at my heart when I think about that. They aren’t close by any means, but their relationship is what I would describe as healthy respect between two adult colleagues.

A far cry from my ridiculous pining after a man who once killed eighty people in two days, and doesn’t pay attention to me anyway. If Natasha is a respected colleague to him, I am closer to a fly on a cabinet door.

I grab my coffee and dump milk and sugar in it before sitting next to Thor,grabbing one of the spoons on his head and inadvertently collapsing the whole structure. He wakes with a grunt. I ignore him while he tries to orient himself, pointing Mjolnir this way and that, while I stir my coffee and idly watch Loki pore over plans. A thin line forms between his brows, marring otherwise flawless pale skin that glows in the bright, white light of the early morning.

Steps pass by the common room. A muffled conversation is overheard through the closed door.

„But, Mr Stark-“

„No, and that’s my last word. You are not using company funds to buy fort life!“

„It’s fort night. And-“

„And for the last time, you’ve got homework to do. You can’t spend all day playing that stupid video game.“

„Okay, FIRST OF ALL-“

I chortle and almost choke on my coffee. Peter Parker is the only member of the avengers team that’s younger than me, and while Tony gets protective over me, he’s downright parental towards Peter. It’s truly heartwarming.

Also, I’m pretty sure he’s already in the process of buying some games company, and is hiding it from Peter until Christmas. He’s a lucky boy, that’s for sure.

Speaking of lucky…

I start and almost spill my coffee when someone vaults over the back of the couch and sits next to me. I look over and freeze when I see a slicked-back black hair and a black dress shirt stretched over a broad, muscled chest.

Loki. It’s Loki. Loki just sat next to me.

He isn’t paying attention to me, though, and busies himself scribbling on the plans he’s working on with a red marker. With him comes a smell of leather, moss and oud - an earthy, fresh, masculine scent that smells as natural as if you were sniffing the elements themselves, although I’m sure it’s secretly an obscenely expensive eau de parfum.

I caught a glimpse of Loki’s room once. I was passing it just as he walked out, and saw a small mountain of boxes from high-end designer labels. I’m reasonably certain any outfit he wears costs as much as or more than a second hand car, so I don’t want to think what his perfume might cost.

Considering he grew up a literal prince, that shouldn’t come as a surprise, I suppose.

Breathing normally is a challenge with my crush in such close proximity. He’s probably just trying to get comfortable, and saw no reason to take an armchair when there was still room on the sofa, though. Has nothing to do with me.

Nothing at all.

I subtly watch him while he continues to work. His buff, defined tricep plays under his skin as he moves his arm across the blueprint, gracefully swishing lines across it with a large, veiny hand.

It takes me way too long to realize he’s noticed me staring. After what feels like an eternity of staring at his hands, zoned out completely, his voice tears me out of my trance. I look up to see him chuckling at me, eyes twinkling with mirth, and my cheeks heat up.

„You seem rather intrigued with these plans. If you ask Bruce, I’m sure he can spare you some. Unless that is… not actually what you were looking at?“ He says in his smooth, sultry voice, thinly veiling his amusement.

My mouth opens and closes, but I don’t know what to say. He’s caught me red handed.

If I was witty like Loki, or confident like Natasha, or brazen like Tony, I’d have a quip ready to throw at him in point three seconds flat, but I’m not them. I’m me, so I only shrug and give him an apologetic smile that hopefully conveys a playful embarrassment while also making it clear I am not, in fact, actually sorry.

„Ya got me.“ I say with a smile in my voice and look away from him, hiding my face behind my cup to avoid his inquisitive stare.

To both my relief and my disappointment, he doesn’t say anything more than that and returns to his work.

Thor has managed to recover from his shock in the meantime. He’s building a tiny castle of the spoons on the coffee table. It’s pretty impressive.

„Do you not have an assignment or something?“ Bruce’s voice, gentle as ever yet tinged with uncharacteristic annoyance, drifts through the room.

Thor shrugs. „It’s Friday. Can’t we, like, take it easy for once? Have an extended weekend?“

„I vote yes for the extended weekend. Drinks are on me. Not for you, Peter, don’t get excited.“

I didn’t notice Tony come in, but here he is, hands wildly gesticulating in the air to manipulate a semi-opaque screen hologram.

„Ooh, I agree. We haven’t had a welcoming party for our new member yet. I vote we give her a bit of a hazing, see what she’s all about. How does a game of truth or dare sound?“

Natasha is smiling at me with a mischievous glimmer in her eyes. She’s the only person I’ve told about my feelings for Loki, and by the way she’s glancing back and forth between me and him, she’s witnessed our little exchange and smelled blood.

„But, Miss Romanoff, Ma’am, tomorrow’s DnD night! We’re not cancelling that, are we?“

The puppy eyes Peter gives her are heart wrenching.

„No need to change your plans. We’ll play tonight,“ Loki says and, much to my horror, gives me a meaningful look.

I don’t believe for a second he is actually interested in me, not least because he doesn’t really know me yet, but of course the god of mischief and lies would jump at the chance to cause chaos and bathe in the glory of his own attractiveness.

Not that I can blame him for wanting some recognition for once. Whenever we’re out as a team, Thor and Bruce get stopped for pictures and autographs every few metres while the rest of the team largely gets ignored. Most of us don’t mind, but I can see the indignation, and the much harder to spot pain, behind Loki’s eye rolls when he is shoved aside for Thor - sometimes literally.

I can only imagine what it must have felt like to grow up as him. Always shunned in favor of his ‚oafish‘ brother, as he would put it, no matter how often he proves himself to be intelligent, perceptive and funny.

I’m not excusing his murders, but I’d be a little irritable, too.

I can’t deny, though, that whenever he thinks nobody’s watching him, the glint of his true self in his eyes, dark and deep and dangerous and carefully hidden away, terrifies me as much as it excites me. Truth be told, I’m not convinced by Loki’s sudden change of heart. What reason does he have to not crave power anymore? To go from murdering his own flesh and blood to become king, attempting to enslave an entire planet to rule, to being okay with taking the backseat as a member of a team - not even a well respected one at that? Sure, the others don’t trust him, but they aren’t treating him like a particularly serious threat, either.

They’re making a mistake. A catastrophic one.

I think the Loki who crushed New York and told humanity to kneel is still well and alive, and hiding right in our midst. If I was a less foolish girl I’d tell someone, but I decided a while ago that no matter what happens, I will not betray my friend who doesn’t yet know I consider him a friend.

Call it a need for drama. I am bored as hell. Saving the world involves a shocking amount of paperwork.

I am desperately curious to know what he is planning, because I’m sure he has a plan. The footage of Loki in New York, powerful and ruthless and delighted at his own evil, sparked a strange obsession in me. Whoever this man is, with so many layers of entirely different colors, I _need_ to know him.

At any cost.


	2. Truth or Dare

While the morning is bright and cloudless, Friday evening has rain pounding against the Tower’s windows, occasionally interspersed by heavy thunder. The weather reports predict the weekend will continue to be stormy, climaxing in almost tornado-like winds and heavy rain on Sunday.

For now, though, the rain is quiet enough to be soothing. The lights in the common room cast a warm, dim glow over the fluffy carpet where seven of us have taken seats on pillows or the floor. Bruce said he had important work to do, and stayed in the lab. I think he just doesn’t want to face being truth-ed or dared to confess to Nat. There are enough tricksters among us that he’s probably made the right call.

Peter went out earlier and brought back two large shopping bags of snacks. I helped him fill a few bowls of chips and cookies and get everyone glasses for the soda, but there is still enough left over for tomorrow’s DnD and probably next week’s, too.

I stuff a white chocolate chip cookie into my mouth and glance over at Loki. He’s sitting cross-legged on the carpet next to Thor, who is nestled in a pile of pillows, legs drawn to his chest. He looks strangely boyish like that, especially next to his markedly composed brother.

Loki doesn’t usually take part in group activities. He sticks to himself and nobody invites him to join.

He must be nervous, but there is no trace of it showing on his face or in his body. Outwardly, he looks calm, almost a bit bored.

Nat returns from the supply cabinet with an empty beer bottle and plops down between Loki and Peter. She sets it down in the centre of our circle.

„So. Who’s to be the lucky first spinner?“

Most of us shrug, but Tony’s already grabbed the bottle and spun it before the gesture is finished.

„I call dibs.“

„Clearly,“ Steve grumbles. For some reason, he’s sitting next to Tony. Tony grabs and tilts the floor lamp behind him and bonks Cap on the head, who gives him a glare I can only describe as murderous.

„Hey, boys, calm down. Tony can go first, I don’t mind,“ Nat says.

Tony lets go of the lamp.

The bottle is pointing to Loki. He tilts his head and opens his arms. „Well, well, well. Ask away then. I choose truth.“

His face twists into a suave grin. I get the feeling he’s delighting in all of us knowing he is the god of lies, asking for a chance to tell the truth.

Tony fiddles with his phone while he asks. He sounds like he’s trying very hard to seem disinterested. „Do you see all humans as beneath you?“

Loki purses his lips and makes an ‚ooooh‘ gesture. „Not _all,_ “ He says in a tone that implies the list of humans he respects is very, very short.

Before Tony can answer, he’s spun the bottle.

It lands on me.

He smiles. The palms of my hands grow moist and sticky instantly.

„Haaave you….“ He draws out the words. The sadistic joy in his eyes tells me he knows exactly what torturous suspense he’s putting me under, and enjoys it. „Ever betrayed a friend?“

My insides go cold. His question jars me so much I don’t even register he didn’t give me time to pick between truth or dare.

My answer may make it clear we are more alike than it seems, but I’m not sure that’s a good thing, even in Loki’s eyes.

My voice comes out small, barely above a whisper. „Yes.“

Memories flood my head. With them comes a stabbing pain.

Loki looks only mildly surprised and weirdly pleased, like a cat that just ate a fat treat. I avert my eyes and blush, quickly grabbing the bottle and giving it a weak, pathetic spin that barely makes it through one full circle.

„Dare!“ Thor booms and grins.

„Uhhh…“

I look around frantically, trying to come up with something funny to distract myself. My eyes land on Thor’s hammer and I can’t suppress a giggle.

„Make out with Mjolnir and post it on your twitter!“

The others all smile or laugh, but Loki chuckles the loudest. Thor gives him a menacing glare, butdoes the dare. He grabs the hammer and his phone and puts on a show that would be banned on most sites that don’t start with P, underscored by howling and clapping.

Loki looks _mortified_.

Thor finishes his debut as an adult actor for a very niche fetish, and gives the bottle such a mighty spin that by the time it slows, I have anxiety-munched my way through half a bowl of fluffy ketchup flavored chips.

„Nat!“ He booms.

Natasha cocks her head and smiles mysteriously. „Truth.“

„What happened in Budapest?“

She laughs a little. „Things I will never forget, that you will never find out… Also, I kissed Clint and realized I do _not_ have a thing for my best friend.“

Tony whistles through his fingers. Nat ignores him and spins the bottle again, which lands on…

Me, again.

„Ahh. Y/N. Our sweet baby chick. If you could interview anyone in this room for ten minutes and they could only tell the truth, who would you pick?“

I grimace. She _knows_ the answer to that. We’ve talked at length about my fascination for Loki and his inner workings.

I briefly consider lying, but decide against it. Lies tend to haunt you. I’ve got enough ghosts.

„Loki.“ I keep my answer brief. My cheeks heat anyways and my chest constricts with anxiety.

„Heh heh heh. I’m flattered, but then again most of you fools would gladly talk about yourselves for hours without so much as being asked to, right? Not much of a shock,“ He says, voice gentle and soothing while riffing on the others.

I blush harder and look at my hands while the bottle spins again.

I’m still examining the backs of my hands when Steve speaks up. „Uh, truth.“

It’s cruel, but I don’t want to be the only one embarrassing myself tonight. „Steve… What is your deepest, darkest fear?“

There is a moment of silence. Then Steve speaks again, sounding tired, and older, somehow.

„Seeing the world fall into the hands of those that see no value in it save for what they can get out of it.“

„God that’s boring.“ Tony groans loudly.

Steve spins the bottle and Peter is up next.

„Aw, finally!“

„So?“

„What?“

„Peter, you have to choose between truth or dare.“

„Oh, right.“

He laughs and takes a moment to decide. „Uh, uuh, dare!“

„Okay… Text your aunt May that you’ve decided to quit school and start your own restaurant.“

Peter blanches, swallows and pulls out his phone, texting and showing the proof to Steve.

„She’s gonna kill me.“

„I’ll play some good music at your funeral, don’t you worry,“ says Tony.

Next up is Loki.

„What do most people think is true about you that isn’t?“

Oh, sweet Peter. His face is soft and the eyes he’s looking at Loki with are anxious, but honest. He’s intentionally giving him a chance to show off his kinder side, which sometimes I think not all of us are aware exists.

„That I don’t love anyone but myself. I can love, and love fiercely. It saddens me that even those I love don’t always know it. Open communication has never been our family’s strong suit.“

His voice is so soothing, beguiling almost. His gaze is focused on the floor in front of him. It is a convincing display of emotion, if nothing else.

„Oh, oh, damn. I mean, sorry. That kinda sucks.“ Peter reaches over and awkwardly pats him on the shoulder. Loki nods and smiles a grateful, though condescending smile - one you would direct at a child that gave you its drawing at a Christmas party. Nevertheless, the genuine nature of Peter’s empathy has touched him, that much is clear.

I don’t think Loki has been shown much genuine empathy in his life.

Loki flips the bottle. I watch it turn and turn and feel my heart beat harder and harder in my chest when it slows on Nat, almost stops on Peter, and eventually creaks to a halt pointing at me.

„Y/N… Heh.“ He gives a breathy, short laugh. „Tell me something you don’t want me to know.“

I freeze, staring at him wide-eyed. He returns my stare with a level gaze, eyes filled with mischievous joy and an intrigue that surprises me.

What should I say? That I have a crush on him? That I understand why he did the things he did?

No. I have a feeling he knows about those. While he rarely speaks unless he has something to say, Loki is _always_ watching. There is no way he doesn’t understand people on a deep level by now, after however many hundreds of years he’s been alive.

No. If I am to tell him something I truly don’t want him to know, I have to go deeper than that.

„I’m not just omnilingual. Speaking and understanding all languages and communicating with animals is only part of what I can do.“

„Y/N, you don’t have to do this.“ Natasha is shaking her head in the corner of my field of vision, but I am entirely focused on Loki.

„It’s okay. I’m okay with this. So… I haven’t told most of you, but I’m a telepath. It’s how I stayed alive in the New York attack. If I concentrate really hard, I can predict my enemy’s moves and dodge them. I’m not a fighter, but I can sorta stay alive if I’m lucky. I just ran and hid.“

„So… you can read minds?“ Loki sounds and looks even more intrigued now.

„I mean, kinda. It’s not a one way street. I open up a link between my mind and another person’s, and if they mean me harm and have been trained in telepathy…“ I don’t finish my sentence. The possibility of having my entire mind hijacked and destroyed makes bile rise in my throat.

„I see. And why is it that you kept this a secret even from your own friends?“

I shrug. „I like having secrets. It makes me feel… safe.“

After our game of truth or dare I worry dinner might be tense, everyone focused on their own revealed secrets and embarrassing moments. I need not have worried - in fact, it is so chaotic that I hardly know who to listen to, who to respond to.

Tony and Steve are bickering. Between them sits a thoroughly entertained Thor, whose head is whipping back and forth between them like a dog following a ping pong ball.

„You tip-toe, Mr I wear leggings but I’m not a ballerina. You need to strut.“

„For the last time, I am not wearing booty shorts that say Stark on the ass to missions! Or at all, frankly!“

Natasha is tapping on a tablet while shoveling pasta into her mouth while having a phone conversation with Fury, from what I overhear. Peter already returned home. And Loki…

Loki is so lost in thoughts I feel safe staring at him. He’s eating, but he isn’t focused on eating. He stares off into space, occasionally making a subtle facial expression like he is going over something in his mind.

It could be anything, really. Mission plans. An old memory. Or… or maybe he’s thinking about me.

I am grateful to whatever god is responsible for Loki’s spaceyness tonight because that very thought makes me blush.

After how much interest he showed me today - more than the entire time I’ve been here before then, combined - I’m feeling unusually confident.

After dinner, I stay behind to put the used dishes away and wipe the table. A vacuum robot bumps into my foot and I bend down to pet him. He turns and zooms forward only to bump into a table leg and bounce back like a confused little animal.

I think I’m going to do something stupid tonight.

When I finish setting the common room in order, the rest of the team has gone to bed. I briefly enter my room, brushing my hair and lightly slapping my cheeks so I don’t look quite dead.

Then, without even entertaining the thought of backing out, I leave and stop in front of a door that looks just like mine.

My knocking is followed by a brief silence, then fabric rustling. Before I can change my mind, the door opens and an uncharacteristically disheveled Loki stands before me.

His hair is slightly damp at the tips, and curly. He must have taken a shower after dinner. He is wearing a combination of very soft-looking black pants, a matching sweatshirt, and a long silken robe. Its dark green paisley shimmers silvery in the low light of his room. It is freezing cold. I shiver and curl my arms around myself.

His face is soft and unguarded as he looks at me questioningly. He looks sleepy, not dead exhausted or anything, just… vulnerable. Without intention and ulterior motive, for a rare moment, the man that stands before me is not a strategist, not a master manipulator, but just him. Just Loki.

I almost feel bad for exploiting his weakness in an unguarded moment.

Almost.

„I have a question.“

„…?“ He blinks a few times as if to wake himself up.

„Why did you give up all that information to Thor? Why not go to prison and keep schemeing? You’re brilliantly intelligent. We both know you could have made it out. So why? Why are you suddenly on our side?“

He rubs a hand over his eyes and stares at me for a moment. Then he sighs quietly and turns back into his room. His voice is so quiet I have to follow to understand him. I close the door behind me.

„Because I forgave Thor… At least in part.“

„…?“

„And… because New York was never fully my choice in the first place.“

„Please explain.“

„The scepter is a tool of mind control. I knew I could use it to control others, but unbeknownst to me it was controlling me, too. It fueled my hatred of Thor and squashed all possibility of forgiveness.“

„Oh.“

„Is this why you are at my door at eleven at night?“

He grins at me with an echo of the mischievous joy I am used to seeing from him. Fatigue etches lines into his face that normally aren’t there. He must have been close to falling asleep when I knocked.

„Uh, yeah. I guess.“

„…Interesting.“

„And why else?“

„Huh?“

He steps toward to me. I back away until I hit a wall, but he prowls closer and closer until I feel his breath on my skin. The vibrations of his low, deep voice make me shiver.

„Why else are you in my room in the middle of the night? What curiosity drove you into the lion’s den, little lamb?“

I stare at his face, so close to mine, eyes searching and examining my own. Now I am the exposed one, the vulnerable one.

Whatever he sees in my face as I stare at him, hyperventilating a little bit, seems to satisfy his curiosity as he turns away and waves for me to leave.

„Go now, little lamb. Return home where you’re safe and warm.“

I hesitate for a moment, entranced by the harsh, yet beautiful outline of his profile. Then I force myself to step away and scurry out of the room.

With the adrenaline gone, all the energy drains out of me and I am left shivering and weak while I return to my own bed.

My dreams are visited by silvery wolves stalking under the moonlight, panting and howling with an enchanting melancholy that draws me in as they walk away, so slow yet always out of reach.


	3. The Culture of Nails and Getting Hammered

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nat, Loki and YN go out to do an errand, fail hilariously, and have fun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ayyyy. This one is a bit silly. If you do (or don't!) feel free to leave a comment! It would be greatly appreciated. Hope you enjoy! :-)

I am in my room with Peter, who is explaining the maths homework he asked me to help him with, when Natasha swings the door open without knocking.

„Oh, my god, guys. My shelf just broke. Half my clothes are on the floor and I’m going to have a breakdown if this isn’t fixed stat.“

Truth be told, she doesn’t seem all that distraught. She looks pointedly at me.

„Would you mind going to the hardware store with me? Like, right now?“

I look at Peter, who gives me a thumbs up. Understandable. I think he could explain this to a rubber duck and get the same results.

I shrug. „Sure.“

The smile that blooms on Nat’s face is far too wide. I shrink back in my chair and squint at her.

„You’re up to something. Spit it out, Natatat. What are you planning?“

„Oh, nothing big. It’s just that I already asked Loki to come with me, too. I was hoping you could teach him a bit about human culture.“

„And you wanted to start with that… in a hardware store?“

„Yep.“

„Okay.“

„Cool!“

We stare each other down, probably looking about a second from murdering each other, until I crack a smile and Nat starts laughing.

„Okay, let me get my coat.“

It’s been raining since last night. I wait by the door with Nat when Loki comes strutting towards us. A long, black woolen coat wallows ominously around his body. His hair is slicked back again. There is no trace of the vulnerability of last night on his face.

„Shall we, then?“

He smiles at me only for a moment before giving the same distanced, cold smile to Nat, who leads us out the door.

The car drive is silent. Nat drives and Loki sits next to her, staring out the front window.

New York is still being rebuilt, so barely a corner is not drowned in the noise of construction work. High up in the tower, you forget how deafening the streets are.

The hardware store is farther out. The destruction didn’t reach here. When we arrive, the rain has let up to a drizzle. We walk through the parking lot in silence.

When we’re inside, Nat turns around and grins.

„So. We need nails, a hammer, screws of all sizes you can find because I didn’t bother to check which kind I need, and screwdrivers for all of them. Y/N, could you and Loki go get those? I have some business to attend to.“

I raise my eyebrow and give Loki a glance, who mirrors my expression. „Business?“

„Uh-huh.“ Nat shrugs her shoulders with a wink and disappears behind some shelves.

„You’re going to have to lead the way, I’m afraid. I know not how these Midgardian shops operate.“

Loki steps forward and raises his head, observing the hall’s far ceiling. „This shop is big, even by Asgardian standards.“ He examines the vinyl floor and wrinkles his nose. „What a bland and ugly place.“

„Well, it’s not made to be a work of art, our stores are more about… efficiency. I mean, it’s just capitalism. Wait, is Asgard capitalist?“

Loki stares at me in a mix of confusion and disgust. „Is Asgard _what_?“

„Uh… capitalist. It’s an economic thing?“

He looks at me for a moment longer and then shrugs and walks off. „So where are the tools Romanov requested?“

I run to keep up with his long legs. „I dunno. Let’s ask a clerk.“

Loki stops for a second. His eyes unfocus, like he’s looking at something only he can see. He turns his head this way and that, and walks off into a specific direction.

I huff and run after him, starting to protest only to silence myself when I realize he’s found an employee.

„Shopkeep! We seek your tools.“

The young man is silent, leaning back, giving him the big, scared eyes of someone who’s recognized the man who invaded the world and committed several counts of mass murder only months ago.

„Hey, we’re just searching for, uh, screws. And like, nails, hammers, screwdrivers, you know? Could you help us find those? That’s all we need from you, really,“ I say and give him a reassuring smile.

He tears his gaze away from Loki and to me and stares at me with big, pleading eyes. Loki is standing right in front of him, looming over the much shorter man.

„I do believe the lady asked your help. Are you just going to stand there like a statue? That’s not very polite of you,“ Loki says in a smooth, quiet voice.

The poor clerk shuffles to the side, not letting Loki out of his sight until he’s a safe distance away, and leads us off, throwing the odd glance at us over his shoulder.

Loki waits for me - for once - and walks with me, chuckling to himself quietly. I elbow him in the side and give him a warning look.

„What?“

„That was mean,“ I whisper.

„Oh, come on. It’s just a bit of harmless fun.“

I shake my head. „That guy is _never_ forgetting the day Loki Odinson walked into his store and demanded to see his… tools.“

We share a look and this time when he raises his brows and breaks out in stifled laughter, I join in.

We arrive in the correct aisle and the man points towards the racks and gives a weird half-bow, ducking away.

Loki ignores him and starts going through the racks. „Which of these is right?“

He looks at me with a silent request for help. Pride swells in my chest and I join him, scanning the array of screws of all kinds and sizes.

„I have no idea. Nat said we should get some of every kind, but I don’t think we’re even going to be able to carry all that.“

„Well that’s inconvenient. What are we supposed to do now?“

I shrug. „I’m gonna call her. Wait a sec.“

„You could facetime her and show her the screws.“

I balk. „You know a lot about technology for an Asgardian.“

He chuckles lightly and pulls his own phone out, presumably to call Nat. „I am an expert on human technology, make no mistake about it.“

„Is there anything you’re not an expert on?“

He gives me a side-eye, smiling so genuinely his eyes crinkle a little. „Building furniture.“

I snort. „Okay. Guess I’ll have to beg your brother to help us, then.“

His face fills with indignation. He furrows his brows at me. „I think I’ll just get a manual. You humans have that, right? You have manuals?“

I cock my head. „Why wouldn’t we?“

„They’re not common in Asgard. Our furniture is hand made by expert craftsmen and craftswomen. When you buy from them, your piece is brought to you by them personally. There is no need to assemble parts.“

„Asgardian furniture must be incredibly beautiful.“ I can’t keep the longing from my voice.

„Unlike human furniture-“ He sneers so hard his voice changes. „It is. It also lasts for centuries if you treat it well, but the price reflects that, of course.“

„Wow… We have craftspeople on earth, too, but most people get their furniture from places like Ikea… I mean, most of us just don’t have the money to get better stuff, you know?“

He looks sad for a second. „Poverty really is rampant in your world, isn’t it?“

„Yeah. The thing is just-“

I am interrupted by Nat’s name on his phone. There is no photo to go with it, which is embarrassingly relieving.

„Hello, Natasha?“

He listens and nods. „Alright, we’ll be there right away.“

Hooking my arm under his and starting towards the exit, he explains while I speed-walk to keep up with his ridiculously long legs.

„Romanov changed her mind. She will get a new piece of furniture instead of repairing the old, she said it was rotten and filthy.“

„Oh…kay?“

He either doesn’t pick up on my confusion or he’s ignoring it. Either way, he keeps walking until we have reached the exit, where Nat is already standing, waving two beer bottles towards us.

„I got you something,“ She says once we’re in hearing range.

„Isn’t it illegal to drink alcohol in public in New York?“ Loki asks.

Nat winks. „Pretty sure a car doesn’t count as a public place. I thought we could chill for a minute, just talk. It’s so rare we all get to hang out together!“ She nudges Loki with her elbow, who raises his brows at her, and then she pointedly smiles at me.

We sit in the car in awkward silence. Loki took one sip of his beer and spat it right back out, cursing ‚wretched mortal drinks‘. I don’t think he liked it.

Being a human with telepathic and omnilingual capacities means I’m naturally a lightweight. According to the Shield agent who first picked me up, there are only a few dozen of us currently alive in the world, and I am one of the most powerful. It seems to be a natural occurrence, yet extremely rare. According to Shield it is impossible to tell how I picked it up, but it is unlikely to be genetic since they traced several of our ancestries back hundreds of years and found no other anomalies.

After sipping half the beer, the world is gently tilting and turning around me and my inhibitions fall away, leaving me with little impulse control.

„So, Lokes. Can I call you Lokes? Lookiiiii. My boooyyy.“ I sing, heartily patting him on the shoulder from the back seat. „Why don’ we get ourselves some bubble tea?? Huh Natasha?? Natashoobidoobidoo??? C’mon. Loki has to try bubble tea. He’s gonna love it.“ I turn to Loki, who’s lightly chuckling in disbelief, and hold a chastising pointer finger to his face. „You’re gonna love it. Driver! To the shop where they sell the tea that bubbleeesss!!!“

„How much alcohol was in that drink?“

Nat pulls a grimace. „Like, five percent? Not much. I didn’t expect her to be such a lightweight.“

„I’m so light I’m floating!“

On the way, I don’t bother to take my hand off Loki’s shoulder, gripping it and patting it like an overly touchy old uncle at a family function.

„Lokiiii. I’m sorry your childhood was so sad. But cha know, I think Thor really does love you! You know? Do you know that?“

He gives a breathy laugh, somewhere between sad and incredulous, and gives me a look of gratitude. „I am quite aware, yes.“

„Good, good, good!“

We drive in silence for a while. Still, I am awkwardly gripping Loki’s shoulder like my life depends on it.

„So… Loki.“

He glances over his shoulder, amusement evident on his face. „Yes?“

„What would you say is the worst thing you ever said to anyone?“ I give him a big, sunny smile.

He thinks for a second and then laughs. „When I was eight, my parents took me to a funeral. Rather a big mistake, I’m still not sure what led them to believe it was a good idea. The funeral took place in the summer and when the mother of the dead soldier we were mourning approached me, her face was both red and pallid and frankly, looked rather similar to a slice of ham. So I told a grieving mother her face looked like ham. Then she slapped me, so I stabbed her.“

He chuckles at the memory, clearly not ashamed in the slightest. Nonchalantly, he continues.

„So, this… bubble tea. Is it like a soda?“

I listened to his story intently, mouth agape, but when he mentions bubble tea, it immediately becomes all I care about.

„Oh, no, not at all! It’s not fizzy. It’s like sweet tea, except at the bottom of the cup - actually, you’ll see! We’re heeereee!!“

I jump out of the car before it has fully stopped. Bouncing into the café, I wait at the door and jump up and down, waving to Loki and Nat. They look quite menacing as they strut towards me, two tall, lithe figures, black coats billowing in the wind.

Loki eyes the menu above the counter with a mix of disgust and concern.

„What is… peach?“

I huff in shock. „What is _peach_? You know about FaceTime but not what a peach is?“

„I haven’t been on earth for very long. I never saw a reason to read books about earthly foods, I suppose.“ He looks amused.

„Oh my GOD. You’re gonna love it!!“

„If it has half the effect that beer had on you, I’ll take five.“

I give the cashier a hearty wave and start taking our orders. For Loki, I order peach tea with lichee bubbles, and for Nat and myself, milky green tea with peach bubbles. While our drinks are made, I explain the concept of bubble tea to Loki. He eyes his cup with distrust, but takes a cautious sip anyway.

The journey of emotions his face cycles through when his mouth fills with bubbles is hilarious. At first there is shock, and a little bit of horror, but as he swishes them around in his mouth, the fear turns to curiosity and when he bites down on them and the overwhelmingly sweet lichee aroma coats his tongue, he smiles.

„This drink… I like it.“

„See? I told ya he would like it!“ I yell and slap Natasha on the back.

Before we leave, Loki orders two more of his drink, but doesn’t push the straws into them, choosing to carry them home instead.

After arriving at the tower, we take off our shoes at the team living area’s front door. I hang my coat on a hook next to Loki’s. When I turn around, I jump because right in front of me are the stern faces of Thor and Steve, who snuck up on me while I wasn’t paying attention.

„Hey, can we have a word with you?“ Asks Thor.

„In private,“ Adds Steve with a suspicious glance towards Loki. He reacts only with a hardened glare and leaves in the direction of his room.

Their expressions sober me up quicker than a cold shower could. „Uh, sure. What about?“

„We’ll tell you in a minute,“ says Steve.

„Okay…“

I follow them into an unused meeting room. Thor sits on the table and Steve stands next to him, hands folded in front of his body.

„So, guys. Spit it out. Am I in trouble? Did I mess something up?“ A terrible idea crosses my mind and I gasp. „Am I _fired?_ “

„No, no, god, no. You’re fine,“ Steve reassures me. He exchanges a meaningful look with Thor, who clears his throat before addressing me.

„It’s just that we are worried about you. We see you’re getting closer with my brother, and it’s wonderful, really! He needs a friend. It’s just-“

„We wanna make sure you’re aware of…“

„Who he is.“

I raise an eyebrow and cross my arms. „Who he is? You mean, a mass murderer who tried to invade the planet? Yeah, heard about that. Was kinda hard to miss. It was all over the news for months. And, you know, New York. Where I _live_.“

„He cannot be trusted,“ says Thor and shakes his head. „He tried to murder me and my friends to become king of Asgard. There is no telling what he would do to you if you were to step in between him and what he wants.“

That does give me pause. I didn’t realize Loki tried to kill Thor. He must have had his reasons, but I have known Thor to be a kind and honest man - not the type of person you would say had it coming if they were murdered by their own family.

I grab my forehead and falter, leaning against the wall for support.

„That’s… rough, but it doesn’t change what I intend to do.“

„And that is?“

I look up at Thor. „Make my own picture of who Loki is. On my terms. Now, if that is all…“

„One more thing.“

Already on my way out, I turn around.

„You have an assignment for next week. You’ll be going on a trip to Siberia with Bruce and Thor. It will be a small mission, under the radar. Nobody knows of it except the team. You’ll take one of our new Aterjets. The person who will be piloting it…“

„Is Loki.“ Thor’s eyes are serious, all the usual lightness and humor gone. „He is an excellent pilot, but you are not to share your notes with him under any circumstances. You got that?“

I nod. „So what’s my job?“

„Translating ancient runes from a long lost civilization. We’re hoping they might point us towards a very powerful artefact.“

„Okay, got it. Anything else I should know?“

They shake their heads.

„Good, because I need a shower and a good nap. I feel sick.“


	4. If Glaciers Can Melt

„Well, if you’re gonna be like that - I make a deception roll to make you think you just peed your pants!“

I roll a die and holler when it lands on a high number.

„Awww, come on!“ Tony protests.

The rest of the group erupts into rowdy laughter. They don’t notice Loki enter, take a look at us huddled together around the table, and walk to the fridge to retrieve a bottle of water.

He holds himself tall and proud as always, but he can’t hide the soft curve of sadness in his brows and his mouth. As quickly and silently as he entered, he leaves.

Bruce speaks up, and we reluctantly quiet. „Alright, guys, settle down. You walk through the dark corridor, your steps echoing loudly on the marble… just when you think it goes on forever, you round a corner and find yourself standing at a tall double door. They open on their own, to a brightly lit room and a tiny old woman smiling ear to ear.“

Once again, I find myself standing at Loki’s door. The hallway is dim. The only light comes from amber led strips running along the sides of the floor, hidden behind milky glass that softens their glow.

My breath comes out shaky and flat as I raise my hand to knock and stop just short of the door for the dozenth time.

Before I can make up my mind on whether I will knock this time or not, the door opens.

„ _Are_ you intending to come in or did Stark send you to keep watch at my door to find out whether I secretly eat his hot Cheetos? Because the answer is yes, I do. They’re disgusting, but I know he likes them, which is why I eat them purely so he can’t. Anyway, did you want something?“

„Why can you fly a plane and Thor can’t?“ I blurt out.

„Oh. Pressing matters, I see. Well then, please, come in.“ He does an exaggerated bow.

His room is cold again, but this time the lights are on. They illuminate a surprisingly cozy, comfortable space. The floor is hidden beneath a Persian rug that is covered in stacks of books and furniture made of ornately carved wood. He’s put a silky shimmering dark green wallpaper on the walls and painted a mural of a brightly shining golden city on the ceiling.

Loki is clad in clearly human made jogging pants and a henley with its arms rolled up to show muscular forearms. The outfit is unexpectedly casual, but nicely made and fitted.

„So.You want to know how I learned to fly? I assume you’ve been informed of our next assignment, then.“

I give a tiny, weak nod.

„Good,“ He purrs. „Can I offer you anything? A cup of tea? A whisky? Although judging by how that beer made you behave, maybe that isn’t the best idea.“

I scowl at him. „Hilarious.“

„I know. I’m glad you have taste.“

He smiles at my pout. „Awww. You’re adorable.“

„I am _not_ adorable! I could go through your mind and make you relive the very darkest of your memories in an instant! I’d have you on your knees screaming for your mama if I so desired!“

„Oh, really?“

He steps closer until our noses are nearly touching. His large, grey eyes stare into my soul. I am transfixed by them, by the intensity and the sharp intelligence behind them, so much so that I barely notice him taking my hands into his, or the strange cloud enveloping my mind, or the tendrils of smoke slithering into my thoughts.

Threatening a murderous god might not have been the wisest idea.

„You are powerful, aren’t you... You could have me screaming for my mother indeed. Well. I think you’d much rather have me screaming for _you_ , though, do you not agree? Wouldn’t that be so much nicer?“

His hands in my head smooth over my memories, gently but firmly carding through them one by one. It isn’t painful, but the intrusion feels unfamiliar and intimate in a way that leaves me profoundly vulnerable and exposed.

For a moment I am too stunned to react, but I soon regain my senses. At first I push back, but the arms of his soul have the same steel corded muscles as his body. I strain with all my might, but he doesn’t move an inch. He’s so strong I can barely believe it.

There is no aggression in his hold. Like a toddler throwing a tantrum in his father’s arms, I am simply kept still.

_Loki. What are you doing?_

_Shhhh. I’m just looking. Nothing scary, I promise._

_Get out of my head right now!_

_Hmmm… no._

I grumble angrily. Instead of pushing, I invade him back this time. His defenses are solid, but I have experience. He doesn’t seem all that intent on keeping me out - there is a resistance there, but it feels half-hearted.

Memories that aren’t my own flash through my head. A garden, the sweet scent of gardenia and jasmine, sunlight filtering through trees. A blonde boy, screaming raucously, and a beautiful woman with golden hair. Laughter all around me. Then, a darker memory. Icy cold. A snow storm. A striking vision overcomes me along with heart wrenching terror - my forearm, gripped in the hand of a giant, turning blue. Screaming at an old man, who collapses on the stairs he is standing on. Then—

Just as the image of a purple hand with too many fingers takes over, I am ripped out of my mind and my eyes open.

„Oh, my, my. You’re a sneaky one, aren’t you.“

My hand flies up to slap his face. „What the _hell_ was that? You can’t just go through other people’s heads like that! What the fuck!“

He chuckles and holds his hands up apologetically. „I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have.“

„No, you shouldn’t!“ I heave, trying to catch my breath. Still angry, I stomp over to a sofa and plop myself down on it.

„You owe me now. That was rude.“

„I suppose I do. Well, then, what do you want to know? I promise I will not lie.“

„Why can you fly and Thor cannot?“

„Still interested in that, are you?“ He walks over to me and sits cross-legged on the carpet in front of me. He is so tall that he doesn’t have to crane his neck much to look at me.

„When we grew up, Thor always had a connection to our father I did not. Frigga, our mother… I think she tried to make up for it by giving me lessons in magic and letting me explore other endeavors of my choosing, so I wouldn’t feel second best next to my brother. That is what lead to my passion for flying.“

He smiles wistfully. „Flying a jet, I was all alone, free to do whatever I pleased. Thor could never keep up with me. Precision and nimbleness were key to truly master the art, so he quickly grew bored of it. Eventually I even started finding secret passageways into other worlds that nobody else knew of.“

I listen, enraptured. The warm glow of the lamps softens his skin and underlines the innocence in his features, focused behind me while he speaks. His black hair falls in curls around his face. He is stunningly beautiful.

„…Wow. That must have been amazing.“

He smiles at me, with so much warmth it takes the breath from my lungs. „It was. I love to fly.“

I return his smile and we share a moment of peace.

„Your mother sounds amazing.“

His voice is soft. „She is. Whenever I got upset, I would go to her and she’d listen to me speak about my troubles while teaching me how to braid her hair all sorts of fancy ways. It relaxed me, especially when I got better at it.“

His voice breaks and he clears his throat.

„So, what about you?“

„What about me?“

„Yes. What made your childhood bearable?“

„I used to go out into the woods behind my grandparents’ home and befriend the woodland animals. My best friend there was a deer. Her eyes were huge, and round, and black, and they were so kind it would make you swear you’d kill to protect her. People think of deer as graceful, and she was, but mostly she was so incredibly silly. She never failed to make me laugh. I would beg my grandma to buy raspberries and figs so I could feed them to her. They were her favorite…“

A sob sticks in my throat and kills my voice.

I jump up like I sat on a wasp. Quickly walking over to Loki’s desk, I wipe away a silent tear and turn around to him, putting on a fake smile.

„Aah, anyway.“ I rasp.

„There was something else I wanted to ask you. Bruce managed to kill every single one of our player characters off in tonight’s dnd session, and I managed to convince the others to start a new campaign. And I wanted to ask you… if you would like to join us.“

„Is that an offer or a request for my presence?“ His eyes twinkle mischievously.

„Uh, both.“

„Oh, no, it can’t be both. Either you’re extending a helping hand to a beggar in need, or you’re asking because you _want_ me there. Which is it?“

I scowl at him. „Can’t I wish to befriend a beggar in need?“

He grins. „Oh, so you _are_ fond of me.“

I cock my head, suddenly sad. He’s playing it off like this is nothing more than his usual vanity, but there is an undeniable hope in Loki’s voice, bordering on desperation.

I look him in the eyes, bright and grey and open, and smile. „Yes.“

He chuckles breathlessly, mirth lighting up his face. „I shall be there.“

Lying in my bed, I toss and turn and twist this way and that. I am unable to calm the storm of thoughts in my head, of what-ifs, of daydreams of Loki and his broad, leather clad chest, his golden helmet with its long, curved horns. They keep me awake into the early morning, when, watching the sun rise, my eyelids finally droop and fall closed. My dreams are a mess of journeys and adventures, led by a man with raven black hair and a deceptively soothing voice who calls himself Loki.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll be frank, I'm not sure about this one. What do you think? What's your impression of Loki so far? Characterizing him correctly is really hard, so if you have any feedback on how I'm doing with that, I'd love to hear it! I hope you enjoy today's chapter, you lovely people! :-)


	5. The Jet

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, comments are dearly appreciated! I hope you like this one. I did. Enjoy, and have a lovely day! :-)

Loki is an amazing pilot. I fucking hate flying with him.

The first few hours went by smoothly, but now that we’re navigating through mountains, weaving and dipping through tiny gaps in the rock, he has apparently made it his goal to make every one of his passengers vomit at least once on this flight. Bruce is taking on a concerning greenish hue while Thor is gripping onto the arm rests of his seat so hard they’re indenting a little bit, loudly cursing out his brother.

When it got particularly bad, I climbed out of my seat and sat next to Loki. In a car, sitting in the front can reduce nausea, so I was hoping that might apply here, too.

The jet leans into a particularly sharp curve and I tumble out of my seat head over ass, managing to right myself leaned against his thigh.

„Yo, watch where you’re-“

I freeze up when I realize just how close we are. His breath hits my cheek when he chuckles.

„Getting lonely? You know, if you’d asked, I would have just let you climb on my lap.“

I blush violently and scramble to get off him, but he slings a strong arm around my waist that pushes me onto his lap.

„I’m gonna show you something _worthy_.“

He’s heading towards what looks like a solid rock face of slate. I can’t help but cling to his chest and scream while he quietly chuckles, racing straight towards the wall. At the very last second before we crash to pieces, he tears his controller around and we slide through a narrow gap between two plates that overlap to look like one single piece.

My screech of terror turns into a scream of elation as we whiz through a labyrinth of protruding spears and wedges, glittering in the light of the aterjet’s beams.

I forget my embarrassment as a tidal wave of ecstasy overtakes me. I holler and laugh and, in my joyous overzealousness, give Loki a quick peck on the cheek.

„How did you even know that gap was there?“

„Stark built an impressive radar into these. Here, take a look at this.“

He taps a few buttons and a three dimensional model of the rock before us, rapidly changing as we fly through it, appears above the dashboard.

„How are you maneuvering through it that quickly?!“

He only laughs quietly.

We park the jet in a mountain cave. Night has fallen, and our motel’s neon sign glimmers mysteriously in the dark. We walk in and Bruce speaks to the bored-looking middle-aged man at the counter while Thor, Loki and I stand around half-dead with fatigue.

„Here’s your card. You two share a room, I’m with Thor,“ Bruce says and hands Loki an access card.

We trudge up to the second floor, where our rooms are on different ends of the hallway. Loki holds the keycard to the panel under the handle and opens the door. I look up to take a last look at Bruce, who rubs his eyes before waving to me and disappearing into his room after Thor.

Our room is sparse, but surprisingly clean. The floor is covered in grey carpet that smells of dust and mold.

I throw my weekender on the floor and freeze. The only furniture in the room is a rickety looking closet of pale wood and a single bed, lined up with the wall.

„Uh, Loki. We got a problem.“

„What is it?“ Loki yells from the bathroom through a mouthful of tooth paste.

„There’s only one bed.“

„And? Do I smell or something?“

I break out in nervous laughter. „No, no, it’s just-“

„It’s just what?“

Loki leans against the doorframe. He’s still wearing his flight garb, a close fitting leather outfit with bronze metal adornments. His hair falls just short of his shoulders in loose curls.

„It’s… um… Are you sure you’re… you know, comfortable, uh… sleeping… with me?“

A slow smile forms on his lips and I scramble to rephrase my question.

„Uh, I mean, not like that, haha, you _know_ what I mean-“

He steps closer and I shut up. His hands are on my shoulders and his gentle, trusting eyes just above mine.

„I’d prefer watching over you to watching over Banner. We’ll sleep together. That is, unless you’re not comfortable around me…?“

„No, no, not at all!“

„Good.“

He looks at me for a second longer, with so much affection, before giving me a kiss on the forehead. Before I can think of something to say, he’s returned to the bathroom and locked the door.

Reeling and speechless, I sit on the bed. My emotions are a whirlwind but I am so tired I can hardly think. I’m still sitting like that when Loki returns.

„Are you feeling hungry? I brought us dinner.“

„Yeah, sure,“ I say, grateful for the distraction. „What do you have?“

„Asgardian crepes, a specialty my mother used to make for Thor and myself, and Halva.“

„Halva? Is that another Asgardian thing?“

„No, it’s an earthen dessert from Central Asia. It is made from sesame and honey. It’s quite good.“

„Oh.“

He takes out a box of Tupperware with two incredibly thin, folded triangular pancakes and two beige rectangles. Taking out his portion, he hands me the box.

When I bite into the crepe, an explosion of cream cheese, tomato, crunchy roasted onions and mildly sweet crepe coats my tongue and I have to stifle a moan with how delicious it is.

Loki watches my reaction. A pleased grin blooms on his face at my badly hidden moan.

„I take it you like them?“

„I love them,“ I mumble through another mouthful of crepe.

At that, Loki starts eating his own. We sit in silence, munching away, until I’m finished gobbling down the delicacy at a nearly rude speed and pick up the little beige rectangle. It’s slightly sandy and has a fatty, dense texture.

I take a cautious bite. The flavor is overwhelmingly sweet with a nutty sesame aroma to it. I don’t like it as much as the crepe, but I eat all of it anyway.

I wait for Loki to finish and hand him a bottle of water. „I didn’t think to bring snacks, but hydrate or diedrate.“

He raises a confused eyebrow at me and takes the water. „Tomorrow, we’re meeting with Bruce and Thor first thing in the morning. You will be briefed on the mission over breakfast and we shall plan our day following that,“ He says, punctuated by a swig of water.

I nod in agreement and walk over to my bag, retrieving my tooth brush, tooth paste and a pajama. I’m mighty glad Siberia is so cold, because the baggy cotton night gown I brought is not exactly revealing.

With freshly brushed teeth and a cozy pajama hiding my body from sight, I return to the room where Loki has already lied down in the bed, wearing a matching ensemble of green cashmere pants and a sweater. When I shakily climb in next to him, heart hammering in my chest, my leg brushes up against him. The pants are incredibly soft.

„Sorry,“ I whisper, and lie down stiff as a board. The bed is so narrow our arms are touching.

„What are you apologizing for?“ Loki whispers back and turns on his side, facing me.

„Uhm. I didn’t mean to touch you. I’m sorry. The bed is really very small,“ I say with a breathy laugh.

„Oh darling. Never apologize for touching me.“ Loki gives an exaggerated wink and grins.

I can’t help a chuckle. Grateful for the broken tension, I turn around on my own side and look him in the eyes.

„You know, you’re unlike anyone I’ve ever met,“ I whisper.

„I can only return the compliment.“

I wrinkle my nose at him playfully. „Who says it was a compliment?“

Touching his hand to his heart, Loki fakes an expression of pain. „Touché.“ He reaches a hand up to brush a lock of hair behind his ear and his eyes jump between each of mine, searching. „… So, was it? A compliment, I mean?“

I consider him for a second. „Yes.“

„I meant it too, you know.“

There is a moment of silence. Outside, a lone bird croaks.

„How am I unlike anyone you’ve ever met?“

„You see me and you accept what you see without condemnation. It seems an innate part of your nature, to understand and appreciate before you judge.“

I smile. „That’s a nice way to put it.“

„What about me? Why am I not like those who came before?“

„You are an unseen beauty, an unused resource. You are full of pain, yet full of love. So entirely unique, yet all you seem to want to do is excel at other people’s games. When I see you, my heart aches to explore the depths that lay undisturbed in you.“

I don’t know where that came from. Something about Loki, about the brilliant and hurting and conniving man, who is truthful to and unashamed of what he is, inspires me to be a little more like him.

He smiles, props himself up on one elbow and kisses my forehead. „Goodnight.“

„Goodnight.“

I turn around and close my eyes. A few seconds later, Loki wraps an arm around my waist. He cuddles a little closer to me so his chest is touching my back. The proximity opens a faint telepathic link between us. It’s not enough to read his thoughts, but there is an awareness of his mind next to mine, our feelings mixing together into one comfortable, relaxed togetherness.

„That is the cutest thing I’ve seen in my entire life.“

I groan and blink through the sudden intrusion of light and sound. A heavy arm is wrapped around my waist and Loki grumbles unhappily when I sit up. I rub my eyes and yawn.

„What time is it?“

„Six thirty. I’ve got our mission briefing right here. I’m sure it’s okay if I just sit right here-“

I jerk my leg out of the way just in time before Thor’s heavy weight sinks into the mattress at the foot of the bed.

Loki, who is apparently not much of a morning person, finally sits up and frowns at our visitors. His hair is fluffed into an adorable bedhead. He looks so much younger, more innocent, then he usually does. When he speaks, his voice is gravelly and rough.

„Give me that.“

He snatches the papers out of Thor’s hand and squints at them. I crane my neck to read over his shoulder.

„So, the inscriptions we’re looking to translate are written in an as of yet unidentified language that is scratched into cave walls in pictograms,“ says Bruce, who’s standing in the middle of the room with his arms hugged around the front of his body.

„Like Egyptian?“ Loki asks.

„Yeah, kind of like Egyptian. They’re a fair bit older than when the First Dynasty of ancient Egypt is dated at, though. The cave system we’re going to be looking at today was only recently opened due to a major earthquake that broke open part of the rock that had been shut for millennia.“

„Wow. How do we know what to look for then?“

„That’s a good question.“ Bruce reaches over and flips the first page in Loki’s hands. „If you look at these numbers, you’ll see there is electromagnetic pulses regularly emitted from this cave that are so strong they disarm most consumer-grade equipment. My meters should be fine, but it’s highly unusual.“

„And what are we hoping to find there?“ Loki asks. He’s looking at Bruce with an expression that makes my insides go cold.

„We don’t know. Similar readings have lead to the finding of the aether, though, so we’re hoping it might be powerful.“

„And what’s shield going to do with it?“ I ask, voice raspy with sleep.

„Shield doesn’t know about this. The intel came from one of Tony’s private satellites. As I said, nobody except the team knows about this.“

„Holy shit.“

Anxiety flutters in my stomach when I realize how much is weighing on me, and only me. If we find a powerful artifact, it could secure a win for the avengers whenever we are needed to protect the earth next.

I say we, but I am only a part of the avengers in all technicality. In reality, I am not a fighter and pretty much useless in a brawl. Maybe I can still be of use, though.

„Let’s go have some breakfast before you keel over,“ Loki says with a concerned look at me. I have probably paled considerably, so I nod and go to pick up my bag and get dressed.


	6. Cold Men Can Make You Sick

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey-ho, hello. I've been having a hard time mentally, so posting may slow down a bit. Sorry for that! If you have any thoughts, feelings, concerns, praise, worship of me as your deity of writing and drama and megalomania, feel free to leave a comment, I'd love u for it. Please enjoy! Have a lovely Wednesday, lads! <3

The breakfast diner we go to is surprisingly clean, yet totally empty. We arrive at seven on the dot, and an old lady with a deep frown on her face unlocks the door for us. Without a word, she shuffles away and we sit at a booth next to the long wall of windows that show an impressive view of forested mountains. We trudge through half a foot of snow wherever we’ve gone so far, but down here it’s not as cold as it was up on the mountain.

The old lady walks up to our table and smiles. „What can I get for you?“ She asks in Russian.

„What do you guys want?“ I translate for the others.

„One black coffee and the eggs and sausage breakfast, please,“ Thor replies to her in Allspeak.

The lady nods and turns to Bruce. „A coffee and a plain croissant, please.“

I translate for him. „And for me, a Y/F/D and Y/F/B, please.“

Writing our order down on a tattered note pad, she nods and leaves without another word.

„So, Loki and our baby chicklet. You two are a thing now, huh?“ Thor says.

Loki and I only stare at him with haunted eyes from across the table. He chuckles awkwardly.

„Oh, I mean, it’s not that I disapprove, not at all! No, uh… You two are very… cute together.“

We continue staring at him. He sends a helpless look to Bruce, who has buried his nose in the menu and pointedly ignores him.

After breakfast, we trek up the mountain again. It gets bitterly cold as we ascend. The snow crunches beneath our feet. Our breaths puff out in white clouds. Despite the cold I enjoy the mountain air, fresh and clean and saturated with the scents of the forest.

Arriving at the jet, we take off again and Loki navigates us far deeper into the mountains. We „park“ the jet and clamber the rest of the way to a semi-hidden cave entrance.

„Alright, Loki, you’re in charge of protecting the chicklet. If anything happens to her, I will cut your head off with an axe and use it as a bowling ball,“ Thor booms. Loki gives him a sarcastic smile and an exaggerated bow. „Bruce and I will map out the cave, so we will be gone for a few hours. Y/N, you have your notepad and pen, just write out everything you find. Okay?“

I nod. Thor gives me a slap on the back that nearly makes me topple over before he and Bruce disappear in the depths of the cave, armed with a military grade flashlight and a giant bag of scientific equipment, none of which I know the name or the purpose of.

The ‚room‘ we are in is shaped like an asymmetrical pentagon. The ceiling is rough, but the walls are hewn flat and inscribed with tiny pictograms. There is such an abundance of text in this room alone that it makes my head spin.

I set to work deciphering the first wall. It takes a while, because the grammar, vocabulary and culture of the text is so unlike what I am used to, but eventually I can get my head around it and start to scribble down the meaning of what I read.

Loki watches me work for a few seconds before leaving to stand guard outside the cave. I continue to translate for an hour or so before my piercing headache reminds me to take a break. Translating a language purely through my omnilingualism is hard work. Getting up off the floor, where I sat cross-legged for the last few minutes, I decide to join Loki outside and let the fresh air ease my headache.

I walk outside and immediately know something is wrong. Loki is nowhere in sight. Footsteps lead away from the cave entrance. Against my better judgement, I follow them.

Sneaking over the forested path , I almost don’t notice when the footsteps lead off the path and into the untamed forest. Just in time, I stumble left and follow them deep into the underbrush. The madness and danger of my endeavor doesn’t occur to me. All I can think of is where Loki is. Branches scrape my face and tangle in my hair as I fight my way through the thick of the forest, oblivious to any dangers.

One wrong step. One wrong step is all it takes. Busy trying not to get blinded by a stray branch poking my eye, I focus my attention entirely on what is at eye level and rely on careful, slow steps to not trip over branches. What I do not take into account is exactly what happens.

A scream escapes my lips when my foot slips. Despite waving my arms around wildly, I am unable to grasp onto anything solid. I fall into a small crevice in the ground, landing with an ‚oof‘ when my butt hits a solid ice patch. Sharp pain throbs from my ankle and my backside. For a moment I just sit there, catching my breath, trying to process what just happened.

I tentatively try to pull my ankle out. Panic sets in when it won’t budge. Instead, the pain spikes so sharply I hiss and tears prick at the corners of my eyes.

„ _Fuck_ ,“ I swear.

I shake and shimmy my foot, trying to dislodge it. It won’t move an inch.

„Oh my god. Oh my god.“

The realization that I might die out here sets in and I start hyperventilating. A thought crosses my mind and I rush to feel all of my pockets, but no luck. I left my phone in the jet. We weren’t planning to split up today, so I didn’t remember to put it back after I put it on the dashboard of the jet to charge.

I take a deep breath, hold it for a few seconds, and let it out slowly. With it comes a pathetic whimper. I am so afraid. Already the cold is numbing my fingertips and my face, and even if Loki comes back the way he left, there is no telling what state he will find me in by the time he returns.

Where _is_ Loki, actually? What the hell did he leave to do?

Dark and darker thoughts fill my head as I sit there, alone and hurting in the cold of the rapidly darkening forest. At some point it starts to snow, and I cannot contain my tears anymore. I cry and sob, knowing how small my chances of being found are with the light gone and our footsteps covered in fresh snow.

Eventually I fall asleep, lying flat on my back in the snow. That is how I am found, so cold I have stopped shivering, cheeks fire engine red and burning up.

I only half-wake. Voices barely penetrate the fog in my feverish mind. I feel someone wiping the snow off my body and my hair, and arms wrapping around my torso. Then I fall back asleep. My dreams are fitful and confusing, filled with not being able to move from the spot despite running as fast as I can, evading monsters half-visible in the distance.

When I awake again, my throat is painfully dry and my eyelids are stuck together with sleep. I groan and rub my eyes, sitting up with difficulty. When I can see again, my confusion grows. I recognize the room I am in as part of the medical wing of the tower. I am the only person in a bed, but the chair beside me is occupied by Loki. He looks half-dead with fatigue. I barely recognize him. The deep purple circles under his eyes lend his face, even paler than usual, a haunted, hopeless note.

„Oh, Odin be thanked, you’re awake,“ He says in a voice so soft with worry that I almost cry again.

I open my mouth, but when I try to speak I am quickly reminded of how dry my throat is. All that comes out is a dry squeak. With a flash of green light, Loki conjures a glass of water out of thin air and hands it to me. I accept it and gulp it down gratefully.

„How do you feel?“

Loki puts a smooth hand on my forehead. I sigh contentedly at the pleasant cooling sensation on my skin, which burns with an obvious fever.

„Kinda crap, not gonna lie. All woozy and dizzy. What happened? How did I get here? I wasn’t finished with my translations…“

„Darling… you’ve been unconscious for two days.“

„Oh _shit_.“

I gape. Two days? No wonder he looks so worried.

„Can you tell me your name,your birthday and the date, approximately?“

I tell him the information and he nods, clearly relieved. „Good.“

„I’m sorry. I’m really sorry. I shouldn’t have followed you. Now all our work is delayed. I should get back out there-“ I try to climb out of my bed, waves of dizziness crashing through my head at the sudden movement, but Loki presses strong hands to my shoulders and pushes me back down.

„Hey, stop that! You’re sick. You’ve got a terrible fever, and your ankle is broken. You’re on bedrest for an indefinite amount of time.“

Only now do I notice the needle in my right hand. Attached to it is an IV filled with clear fluid. I put not noticing it down to my delirious state - maybe I really should stay in bed.

I let myself sink back down and close my eyes. My head is whirring. I feel like an overworked computer, hot and confused.

„Fine. But please… don’t leave.“

„Okay,“ He whispers, and cups my hand with his.

Drowsily, I smile at him. My mind is confused and anxious, but Loki’s presence enters my head, embracing my shaky soul in a soft, calm place inside his own. I feel protected, safe. My eyes fall shut and I slide into a dreamless, restful sleep.


End file.
